Ginny's Death
by strawberryella
Summary: 'Ginny screamed when the Cruciatus hit her. Her eyes streamed with tears of blood but she did not beg for mercy; she was not fool enough to believe it would be granted.' The Dark Lord has won, the Order of the Phoenix is in hiding...
1. Preface

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

_This is my first attempt at writing fiction and it's **really hard! **I would appreciate any comments._

_Thank you.  
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Good will always triumph over Evil. Not because Good is necessarily better armed or better trained but because Good will never give up. Whatever the costs, whatever the sacrifice, their hope does not fail.

Evil has no such strength. Evil seeks power, not peace. It is a force of many individuals instead of a force of united will.

It may take a hundred years for Good to be restored, but restored it will be. It may take a thousand innocent lives but those lives will not be forgotten.

Never lose hope. Hope gives us the strength to choose the path that is Right.


	2. Chapter 1

Her wrists were bound by invisible manacles to the damp, moss covered wall of her cell. Unable to sit down for days her legs had swollen and her wrists were bruised where she had pulled at her shackles for hours.

Ginny knew the end was coming; she knew she was going to die. There were rules about what happened if a member got caught, the Order could not risk trying to rescue her, she was already dead. They would drag her up to the scaffold in the square where she would sit, unable to stand on her tortured legs. Her charges would be read out - the closest thing to a trial she would be given. They would perform the Cruciatus Curse until her bones broke and her blood flowed and mixed with the colour of her hair. She would beg to die and then they would kill her, and the crowd would cheer either out of fear or fervour. What remained of her would be transfigured into dust and blown to the filthy winds of London. She knew this because she had seen in happen to another Order member a long time ago when she had been a prisoner of someone she had tried not to think about for 10 long years...

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'_Keep watching.' Malfoy snarled. His hand tightened its grip on her upper arm and she winced and looked back up at the platform. 'The show will start in a moment and I want you to remember how lucky you are to be sitting here.' _

_They were on raised seats quite far from the platform. In front of them was a large crowd of people a few of who cast the odd nervous glance in their direction before returning their attention to the platform. They were in a large square somewhere in wizarding London, it was a miserable day, light drizzle was falling and Ginny had her hood up. It was the first time she had been outside since she had been taken. Malfoy obviously wanted to show her something important or he wouldn't have risked it, they were so exposed. Could she make a run for it? It would be easy to disappear in these labyrinthine streets if she could only get away from Malfoy. Could the Order rescue her, did they even know where she was? _

_There was movement on the platform. A man was being led by two others. He was naked to the waist and looked weak and starved. _

'_Do you recognise him yet?' Malfoy asked, he was smirking, it was such an evil thing, so much worse than when they had been at school. Almost unconsciously Ginny looked at the man's face and gasped. It was Dean Thomas. He was painfully thin, his eyes stared tired and lifeless out of his gaunt face, so different to the laughing young man Ginny had kissed nearly two years ago._

_She had sworn to herself that she would remain impassive no matter what was going to happen on that menacing platform but the shock of seeing someone she knew, someone from the Order, after all the time was too much. She gasped, 'What's he doing here Malfoy, what's going on?' _

'_Patience Weasley, you'll see what happens to filthy, traitorous half-bloods soon enough.' At that moment one of Dean's guards bellowed, _

'_Here stands half-blood Dean Thomas, charged with being a member of the terrorist organisation calling themselves the Order of the Phoenix and conspiracy to commit terrorist acts against the wizarding community of Great Britain and our Dark Lord. He has been sentenced to death to be carried out on this day, the 3__rd__ of February 1999.'_

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Not one night had past since that day that Ginny did not think of what she had witnessed, and now here she was, just had Dean had been and her fate would be the same as his.

She bowed her head and thought of Harry, she thought of their children born in to a world of fear, a world she had fought to right for ten long years, a world which would snatch their mother away from them before they had truly begun to know her; a world which they would fight too.

She was falling in and out of consciousness, she could tell because the pain when she relaxed and put her weight on her manacles kept waking her up. Random, disjointed memories flashed through her mind. Draco, did he ever think of her anymore? She knew he was still alive, that he still supported the Dark Lord. He was one of the main targets for the Order but he had always eluded them. She had been his for over a year, over a year of hell, of confusion and terrible choices. She still didn't know whether some of the choices she had made then had been the right ones.


	3. Chapter 2

_This chapter may feel like it comes out of the blue but this on purpose. I'm not good at linear storytelling! It's meant feel like disjointed memories, remembered while she is waiting to die._

_I hope you enjoy, feedback is greatly appreciate._

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Dead._ Ron is dead. _

_The newspaper slipped from her fingers and fell in a crumpled heap to the floor, the picture of her brother's lifeless body unmoving. _

Dead.

_She had not believed him, she had actually laughed at him scornfully when he had told her._

Dead.

_I will never see him again, he will never laugh again, he will never hug me, never tickle me, never hex me, never shout at me, never play with me again. Images of Ron flashed through her mind so fast she could not hold on to them. Something inside her chest hurt so much; it was though her heart was collapsing in on itself. '_So this is what it feels like when your heart breaks'._ She felt tears come to her eyes and forced them with all her might back down, she would not cry. Ron had died in battle, he had not died like Dean, tied to posts and screaming for mercy. A resolve, a terrible calm descended upon her, she would kill Malfoy for this, kill him even if it meant her own death._

_Her hands balled into fists and relaxed again, she was still turned away from him and she could feel his eyes on her back waiting for her reaction, wanting her to break down. He had paraded her around this evening in front of his father and his Death Eater friends and they had all known her brother was dead. Malfoy had shown off his pretty, obedient prisoner. A hate so strong she could not contain it flamed through her and knowing that it would be fruitless but wanting only to hurt Malfoy as much as she could, she span round and smacked her right hand with all her force into his cheek. _

"_YOU BASTARD!" she shrieked. Malfoy let out a little noise of surprise as her hand made contact with his skin, Ginny made to turn but before she could move he grabbed her shoulders and brought her face close to his._

"_Hit me again and I'll hit you back, harder." he whispered. His eyes were fierce, a furious but almost teasing sneer which dared her to continue but Ginny was beyond reason. With a strength she had not known she possessed she ripped herself from his grip and brought her hand down on his face again. This time she was faster or maybe Malfoy was just stunned by her stupidity for he did not catch her before she took off and ran. She did not know where she was going; she could not escape but just running felt good. Sobs started to rack her chest, _Ron! Ron! Ron!_ Tears were clouding her vision now and as she blinked, spilled on to her cheeks. She wiped them away furiously but she could hear Malfoy's leather shoes on the marble floor of the entrance hall and then suddenly he was upon her, grabbing her right arm and twisting it painfully round. _

_SLAP!_

_Ginny's head smacked painfully in to the hard cold floor, she lay there dazed but Malfoy was already hauling her up, dragging her towards the wall._

'_You just don't get it do you' he slammed her up against the beautiful wallpaper 'you're mine, I can do what the fuck I want with you and no one will give a shit.' _

_Ginny couldn't quite get Malfoy in focus, her head hurt terribly but through it the reality of Ron's death wash crashing down over her again and again, huge wracking sobs were cracking in her chest which hurt with such a horrible physical pain. She didn't care what Malfoy did to her, she lashed out, screaming, sobbing and hitting him with any part of her she could. She would live through whatever he did, she would live and she would kill him. Malfoy slapped her again and Ginny felt her lip split and tasted blood. Malfoy smiled, it was a terrible smile of pure hatred. He smeared the blood across Ginny's cheek but Ginny was barely conscious of what he was doing. Malfoy's hands went down her waist and hitched her higher up the wall._

'_You are mine', his hands were travelling up her thighs. Conscious of what he was doing Ginny tried to slap his hands away but he smacked her against the wall again, knocking the air out of her and causing her to hit her head a second time. His hands travelled up to the top of her dress now, he was tearing at the fabric, muttering a spell under his breath not realising his wand was not in his hand. The fabric split open and Ginny sobbed, 'No, no, no.' She was struggling with all her might, it was terrifying how he could simultaneously pin her to the wall and hold her up almost without any effort. _

_The terror was distant though, like it was happening to someone else. Like there were two people being pinned up against the wall. One was petrified of the power and rage that the man holding her possessed, terrified of what was happening, what she was powerless to stop. The other person was lost in an all-possessing and grief-stricken rage that could not be touched by anything. Not this petty and pitiless man who tried to hold her while her mind and soul flew beyond him to her brother and everyone outside these walls that she feared and cared for. _

_The beautiful, flocked wallpaper rubbed against her bare back, it felt just like it had when she had brushed her hand over it earlier in the evening. Luxurious, even now. Her fists continued to beat every inch of his body although they had no effect on his actions. He didn't even bother getting her out of all of her clothes, just ripping the bits that were in the way until she knew that it was too late to stop what was going to happen._

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That had been the first time. Right there in the beautiful, grand entrance hall, up against the gold, flocked wallpaper whilst she valiantly tried to fight him off and he let her try and fail. He wanted her to know that she had tried and failed.

There had been many times after that of course but that was the most distinct. That act for him had been some sort of turning point, before that she had not really taken him seriously as a captor and she felt that he in return had been wary of her. They had, after all been to school together, she had known him for 7 years, since they were both children and their rivalry and dislike for each other was childish and half-formed. But that, that, had changed everything.


	4. Chapter 3

My becoming Draco's prisoner wasn't a straightforward case of kidnap. I wasn't wrestled off Diagion Alley, or spirited away in the night. It was still early in the war, many people weren't even sure there was a war going on. Small changes in the laws, a shift towards a more conservative style of government which talked about protecting ancient wizarding traditions appealed to a society which was unsure what it was anymore. Some wizards were concerned about how many muggles were being brought into the wizarding world as spouses, as brothers and sisters of muggle born wizards and witches who were refusing to separate themselves from their families just because they happened to have magic. Groups within the wizarding world were worried that our unique wizarding culture was becoming too mixed up with muggle influences. For over a century the wizarding world in Britain had had a policy of quiet integration, a type of wizarding multiculturalism, but from pop music, to fashion, to food the tide was turning against a century of pro-muggle feeling.

It was in this atmosphere that I started my final year at Hogwarts. It was 1998, Ron, Harry and Hermione had graduated the previous June and were attempting to lead normal adult lives while working with the Order to prepare for the war which they were sure was coming, it just depended when…who would make the first move.

Well, it turned out that I was the first move….

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I walked into Malfoy Manor a guest, a visiting student there as part of a group of seventh years to give a talk to an International Ministerial Committee about The Wizarding International Young Peoples Fund – set up to encourage charitable exchanges between young witches and wizard in different countries, build Quidditch pitches in Malawi, teach elementary transfiguration in Indonesia, study advanced ancient runes in Egypt – a sort of wizarding gap year.

The presentation was to take place on the lawn of the Manor, it had been chosen I think because of its palpable beauty and English grandeur. On this warm September day it was particularly magnificent.

As senior advisor to the Minister for Magic Lucius Malfoy was the obvious leader of the anti-muggle (or as they liked to call it 'pro-wizard') faction in political circles and was fast gaining ground level support. Here today there were a number of politicians keen to be seen to support this gleaming example of wizarding youth. A smattering of journalists was also present to report the event and there were many foreign wizards representing the countries that were involved in the scheme. It was quite a gathering and we had been told in no uncertain terms by Professor McGonagall, who was accompanying us, that we were all to be on our best behaviour.

It was early afternoon and my uniform was becoming uncomfortably warm. I drifted away from our group towards the long table serving drinks and nibbles to help myself to a large glass of ice-cold pumpkin juice. We had given our presentation and we were now in a break in the proceedings before Mr Malfoy would give the closing speech and then we could get back to Hogwarts and I could take a shower, I hoped his speech was short.

'Hey Weasley' a familiar voice drawled from behind me. I didn't turn immediately, I knew who it was, I had seen him earlier from across the manicured lawn. Didn't he have a job or something to be at, why was he hanging around at this tedious formal function being irritating? I gripped my glass of juice more tightly and turned around with what I hoped was a bored, annoyed look on my face.

'Go away Malfoy.'

I moved to push past him without meeting his eyes but he moved and blocked my escape. Reluctantly I looked up at him, waiting for the sarcastic remark and sneer that were his trademark, but they didn't come.

'Have you tried the raspberry ices?'

I blinked; did Malfoy just ask me a normal question? His face looked sincere, a small smile playing on his lips like he expected his question to catch me off guard. I looked at him blankly for a moment and he reached out behind me to pick a delicate white bowl full of a deep pink sorbet from the table. I hadn't seen it there before or else I would have taken it, it looked deliciously refreshing.

'Here, take one.' He thrust it into my empty hand.

'Umm, thank you.' I replied automatically. Then stupidly asked 'Did you make them?'

His eyebrows rose. Stupid girl, of course he hadn't made them. Did Malfoy even know where his kitchen was? The question was so stupid he didn't even answer it and a shadow of his familiar sneer came back to his face.

'Well, enjoy the speeches Weasley' and he strode away, past me back towards the house. I looked after him mystified, what had that been about?

I made my way back to the rows of seats the rest of the Hogwarts students were sitting in and rather than re-join the conversation I decided to eat my sorbet, it smelt delicious and tasted even better. There wasn't very much, no more than a few mouthfuls, which made me reluctant to share, it was too good. When I'd finished I put the bowl on the grass under my chair and it promptly vanished.

Almost immediately the speaker attracted the guests attentions and Lucius Malfoy took to the stand.

'Dear guests, my close colleagues, honoured ambassadors and exemplary students, this has been a most interesting and educational day and now I have your complete attention I have an announcement to make.'

Everyone was looking at Mr Malfoy with polite interest. He cast his eyes around the crowd, almost everyone was in their seats only a few people seemed to be hovering on the edges, near the refreshments table.

'What we have seen today is the power the wizarding community across the world has to do good among each other. The enthusiasm of our youth, the dedication of our statesmen these are excellent tools but we need to do more. It is time this government took more active steps to ensure the future security of the wizarding community in Britain and thus across the world.'

I glanced along our row to Professor McGonagall, she was staring intently at Lucius Malfoy as if scrutinising his every word. We had all heard this type of rhetoric before of course, this was standard 'pro-wizard' talk but to say it now in front of foreign guests was something different, it was though Malfoy was speaking not just as a faction within the Ministry but on behalf of the Ministry itself.

'As I speak to you now the Ministry in London is drawing up a manifesto to ensure that our wizarding culture is no longer polluted buy the unrestricted and uncontrolled influx of muggles, their ideas and way of life. Over 25 percent of First Years admitted to Hogwarts this term were born from muggle parents, only 30 percent were at least third generation pureblood. How long until the mudbloods outnumber the purebloods? How long until the Leaky Cauldron serves burgers and cola instead of baked pumpkin and butterbeer? How long can our existence remain a secret when more and more muggles know about our world, it is only a matter of time before something shifts and we find ourselves serving muggles with our magic. We have the right to maintain our distinct British wizarding identity and cultural existence as well as protect ourselves and our magical gifts from muggles who would misunderstand and misuse them.'

It this point Lucius paused, I glanced at Professor McGonagall and the look on her face made me gasp; she looked alarmed, almost fearful. Did this mean something more to her than I understood? But then Lucius started talking again and I looked back at him, whatever was going on here was important and I wanted to understand.

'The Ministry expects the full support of the wizarding community in Britain indeed it is only by the will of the people that we act at all.'

I let out an inaudible hiss at this lie, this wasn't a grass roots movement and he knew it.

'We foresee that our actions here will only strengthen our ties with foreign wizarding peoples' He looked at the rows of slightly bemused looking ambassadors and smiled warmly '…and we look forward to engaging on many more projects of shared cultural, social and economic interest.'

With those words Lucius stepped back, made a grand bow to his audience and swept from the stage. There was a moment of silence from the crowd; most of whom didn't seem to have grasped what had just happened, then a smattering of applause broke out. Muggle born Shirley Ann Burnett who had been plaiting her hair the entire time Lucius Malfoy had been speaking looked up startled and started clapping too until her next-door neighbour elbowed her and she stopped, looking confused.

Professor McGonagall stood up sharply.

'Right Seventh Years we are leaving. Please pack up all of your belongings and follow me to the Disapparation Point immediately.'

Her face was set into stone but her voice was steady and hard as nails. The others looked surprised by her sudden desire to leave but years of practice meant they could tell she was angry and impatient and were quick in following her orders. I moved to pick up my bag and out of the corner of my eye saw Draco leaning up against a tree about 30 yards away, I had the distinct feeling he was looking at me but I didn't want him to see me check by looking back at him.

We were soon all at the Disapparation Point which was identified by a ring of white paving stones set into the grass.

'Leaving so soon Minerva?'

It was Lucius Malfoy, he was striding over to us with Draco only a few steps behind him.

McGonagall didn't move but answered him from her place with us in the Disapparation circle. 'I am afraid so Lucius.' she said gravely, 'Thank you for your hospitality, as you said it has been a most _educational_ day.'

'One moment more if you will Minerva.' Lucius stepped closer to the circle but did not enter it. 'We all want this transition to happen as peacefully as possible, to that effect we will need a guarantee the Order' he almost sneered the word 'will not cause problems.'

Professor McGonagall answered in a fierce, low voice filled with scorn. 'Tell your _Master_ Lucius that not one free witch or wizard will rest while he is alive nor will they cease in their quest to ensure that innocent people are protected from him and all his sycophantic slaves.'

Behind her the other students were gathered together in a shocked and silent huddle. I stood beside them, horrified. What was happening here? Draco's eye's flashed to mine, they were expectant.

'Yes I thought you might say something like that.' sighed Lucius. He stepped back and Professor McGonegall turned to us, her face like thunder. She raised her wand and we all copied her movement.

'Right seventh years, on the count of three we will disapparate back to Hogsmead.' I gripped my wand tightly and focused on where I wanted to go, the little beer garden at the front of the Hogs Head in Hogsmead. Past Professor McGonagall I could see Draco and Lucius were both still standing there, waiting.

'One, two, three.'

I concentrated on my destination and turned quickly on the spot expecting to feel the suffocating tightness of disapparation, but it didn't come. I stumbled as my turn ended and opened my eyes to find myself still on the lawn of Malfoy Manor. I looked around, the disapparation point was empty, everyone else had disapparated successfully. I felt myself blushing deeply, what had I done wrong?

'Miss Weasley' it was Lucius Malfoy, he stepped over the disapparation line and moved towards me smiling slightly. 'Please accept my warmest invitations, I look forward to having your company and hope you will find your stay with us to be most pleasant.'

Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement, several figures were moving towards us. Lucius held his hand out to me.

What was going on? I still had my wand in my hand and I raised it to try to disapparate again but just as I moved it flew out of my hand and landed at Draco's feet. I stared at him, he picked it up lazily and held it with his own wand in his right hand. He was smiling widely now. What had Lucius said before to Professor McGonagall… 'we will need a guarantee the Order will not cause problems'… a guarantee…

'Now, now Miss Weasley, we can do this the easy way or the hard way it's entirely up to you.' Lucius said smoothly. I gaped at him. A guarantee.

'Let me go.' I said more bravely than I felt.

'I am afraid that is impossible at the moment, please allow me to escort you inside.'

I didn't move, I could see the other guests only about 100 yards away, none of them were paying attention to what was happening but if I could just get out a scream then they might look. I met Lucius Malfoy's eyes for a moment and maybe he guessed what I was about to do for before I could take a breath he flicked his wrist, the barest of movements, there was a rush of air and everything went black.

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_This chapter is different from the other chapters so far and was much more difficult to write as a consequence! Although I should get subsequent chapters out a little faster now lol I also have bits of other stories although they are Twilight rather than Harry Potter. I wasn't sure whether to upload these or wait until I've finished this story first. What do you think?_


	5. Chapter 4

So there you have it, I was the guarantee, the bargaining tool they needed to begin their revolution peacefully. It feels like an age ago that I stood on that lawn in the afternoon sunlight and my world changed forever. I recognise that young girl in her Hogwarts uniform when I think of her – she is still me – but what happened in that grand house, what happened to me from the moment I fell stunned to the manicured grass doesn't feel like it happened to me at all…


	6. Chapter 5

She wasn't awake, not really, but it was too warm. A sweaty arm was draped over her bare chest and she needed to move and cool down. As this awareness came creeping over her the memory of last night came rushing back …. well bits of it. She couldn't recall the journey between the opera bar and the hotel room, come to think of it she couldn't really remember what the ending of the opera had been. Had she been that drunk that early in the evening? She did remember what had happened when they had got back to the room however - the executive suit of the Leaky Cauldron, who would have guess they had one! - and the shame and guilt welled inside her, as it always did when she woke up the morning after Draco had come to bed with her. She couldn't deny to herself what she felt even though she knew she shouldn't, she should scream and resist but she had stopped doing that a long time ago.

_His lips smashed into hers as he pressed her up against the door. She was panting already, her whole body felt detached and warm, like she was floating slightly above herself. He forced his tongue in her mouth and Ginny felt herself open up in response. Draco's lips curled into a snarling smile, she could feel it against her skin and he moved his hands up to the top of her robes.._

…_They were on the bed now, she was above him naked and writhing oblivious to everything but the pleasure she was feeling. His body underneath her felt like heated rock. He gripped her with a force that might have hurt had she not been so drunk. Suddenly he flipped her underneath him and towered above her. For one second Ginny saw his face, it was desperate, open and unguarded, she gasped feeling something deep down inside herself twist and break, but then the moment was gone and the face staring down at her was all power and control and fierce pleasure…_

She had to get up and go to the bathroom, her head was pounding, but she really didn't want to wake Draco, his arm was currently pinioning her to the bed. The room was sweltering in the unseasonal London heat and she was parched and bursting at the same time. The curtains of the open window weren't even fluttering it was so still and muggy.

Very, very slowly Ginny rolled her body, hoping the movement might encourage the sleeping Draco to also roll over and move his arm. It worked, Draco mumbled slightly and turned over onto his right side, facing the windows. Again very slowly and gently Ginny eased herself towards the edge of the bed and slid out, Draco didn't move. The floor was littered with bits of clothing and as Ginny took her first step across the room to the bathroom she stood on something, something long and thin and hard.

A wand.

Everything stopped. The world ceased to turn as in that moment a whole new something unfolded in front of Ginny. She had a wand, Draco's wand. She could feel it underneath her foot, its hardness dug into the tender skin of her instep with a wonderful solidity. This was the first time she had touched a wand since hers had been taken from her on the Manor lawns a year ago. Hangover forgotten her eye's moved sharply to Draco who was definitely still fast asleep. His breathing was slow, heavy and steady. Across the room the window was wide open and although right now she was as naked as the day she was born there were clothes directly under her feet.

She still hadn't moved, her heart was beating an almost painful tattoo against her ribs and her whole body felt suddenly sharp and strong. This was it. This was her chance. Could she take it? There was fear, fear of getting caught, fear of failing but could she live with herself if she didn't try? If she didn't try to do this now when another opportunity might never present itself what would that mean? It would mean that she had chosen to stay, that she consented. A wave of nausea passed through her, she couldn't do that, it was time to go home.

Quickly now but still silently she bobbed down and snatched up the wand, it felt amazing, she could literally feel her magic hum inside her with joy that after all this time it had some way of releasing itself. Now she needed clothes, her long silky opera robes would be useless but there, just at the foot of the bed was a large puddle of white, Draco's dress shirt. That would do, again she crouched down and could just reach it, swiftly she pulled it over her head, it came almost to her knees.

Ginny stood there, wand gripped tightly in her hand and looked back down at Draco. He was facing away from her, his blond hair, almost white in the pale light coming through the window, was splayed out messily so unlike the sleek way he wore it when he was awake. Several strands were stuck to his neck with perspiration and he had kicked off most of the cloying sheets.

There was no denying he was beautiful, in sleep the hard, mean lines of his face were extinguished and replaced with an almost angelic vulnerability. Ginny drank it in, she couldn't help it, this man had harmed and broken her more deeply than she ever thought possible but still she paused in her escape for reasons she didn't fully understand.

She had to go. She had to go now. Ginny took one small step towards the window. Draco didn't move, another step, another, another. She was at the window now, her hands moved forward and gripped the frame. Slowly, slowly she eased herself limb by limb out of the window and sat perched on the sill. There was no-where else for her to go now, no ledge, no handy drainpipe, she was going to have to drop from the windowsill and try to disparate before she it the ground. She was pretty sure the Leaky Caldron just had prohibitions against disaparition **inside** the building but if she was wrong she was going to be in a lot of trouble. She gripped the wand tightly in her hand, a whole year with no practice and with a wand that wasn't hers... she didn't like the odds but the alternative was to climb back inside the room and slip back into the bed as if nothing had happened.

One more glance, she told herself silently. She twisted her body back to the room and the immobile figure on the bed, she wanted to say something but could find no words even silently in her mind to say to the sleeping man-boy behind her. She kept her eyes on him as she raised herself up and then she looked out at the rooftops around her and dropped silently into the night.


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